


At the Expense of your Happiness

by ffs_fullsun



Category: NCT
Genre: M/M, Plotty, Slow Burn AF, dystopian au, more characters but markhyuck the main ones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2020-07-23 21:36:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20015152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffs_fullsun/pseuds/ffs_fullsun
Summary: Since starting his job, Mark hasn't had a customer like Donghyuck and with the nature of his work, he doesn't know how to feel about it.





	1. Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> So I tried my best but if it's shit then you expected too much from me. Have fun reading though.

"We're closed." Mark sighs, he's the one who's supposed to be closing the store today and he just wanted to go home and sleep off the emotions he had to ingest throughout the day. His hands tremble with the mixture of having too much anxiety and anger handed in today. After all, the store doesn't set an ethical amount of feelings that can be handed in per person. But then again, nothing in Mark's like of work has ever been ethical, but he needs the money.

The steps of the customer are quick, so whilst Mark was deep in thought he didn't realise that a stranger is already standing at the counter.

"Half an ounce of joy and the same for hopefulness please." At that Mark looked up. It was a cheap purchase, but one that Mark has never come across. Who deposits such emotions? Store's like these thrived off of people's sorrows, that's how all of them made their money. Granted, the more negative the emotion the more it cost.

The stranger had a smile on his face, his hair was tousled by the thunderstorm outside, but his entire body radiated warmth. His eyes, although Mark was unable to look at them for too long, were brown and looked full of life. Mark almost wanted to laugh. If his eyes were the same then maybe he would be able to just hand out his happiness as if it was nothing.

"That would be 3.70 sir." Mark said. The number felt almost foreign to him, with that price he could have gotten a quarter of fear, and that's with his store being decently priced.

Mark remembers to not have his hopes up, people walk in to take the piss out of his job all the time.

"How desperate must you be, you poor bastard." Which usually was followed by laughter and knocking down the jar, resulting in the stench that was trapped inside to fill the room and have the store be closed off for the day so the feelings won't affect any customers.

But no, this customer lays some bills onto the counter and gives him a warm smile, extending his hand out for Mark to take. Mark narrows his eyes at him,

"What do you want?" It comes out harsher than he intends it to, but the hysteria that got delivered yesterday is still lingering in his system. It's only been 16 hours.

The stranger lowers his hand slightly, whilst still keeping it suspended between them cocks his head to the side, his right side obtaining a gleam from the lamp that Mark turned on earlier. His skin looked like it was bathed in liquid golden with how luminescent it was. Could Mark be possibly seeing things? He did take a large amount of paranoia but that was 29 hours ago, surely it couldn't be still affecting him, morphing delusions in front of him.

"I want to give you these feelings, is it your first day working here?" he says, but there's no bite to his voice. It was mildly teasing and a lilt of, happiness? Mark can't remember the last time a customer walked in with such an expression on their face. Hell, he can't even remember the last time he smiled. Instead of having smile lines he has permanent creases between his brows.

"A-are you sure?" Mark double-checks. Customers get purchases mixed up all the time, this man could be no exception.

"I'm sure." the boys laughs. It was melodic and carried with it a sense of casualness. Like he does this on the regular. Mark looks at his hand again, that is still extended towards him, his hand is still and outstretched.

With his trembling ones, he lightly grasps at it. It's warm. Almost too hot compared to Mark's icy ones. With jittering movements, Mark places the stranger's hand over the jar. When he opens the lid that's filled with the residue of grief, loathing and what appeared to be either terror or rage, he stranger visibly gags at the stench.

"God." his eyes have teared up and he covers his mouth with his other hand and leans as far away from the jar as he can, with Mark still holding onto his hand.

"Are you okay?" Mark says, only half caring if the customer really is okay, he could just walk out of the store and Mark can close it like he usually would and things would be back to normal. No people coming in giving perfectly fine emotions. How do people like him even have the luxury of just dishing out such feelings? Do they not realise how valuable they are- not money wise, happiness is cheap. But for Mark, who for 3 years hasn't felt as such-- he's pissed off.

He really needs to slow down on the amount of envy he's consuming, he should really slow down on how many shifts he has in the store.

"I'm sorry, its just- ugh, that smell." the stranger says and if Mark had it in him, he would have laughed at his innocence. Ignorance is bliss he supposes.

The customer now has his whole elbow round his lower half of his face and steps closer, the entire time not retracting his hand. Mark takes this as the sign to continue and takes out his scalpel. He looks at the customer, making a show of taking the scalpel to make sure that the stranger is aware of what he's about to do, if he's still up for it.

But the stranger looks back at him, eyes filled with something akin to determination. But there's still that warmth in them.

So Mark draws back the scalpel and makes a small knick into the palm of the customer, he winces and looks away from his hand. Mark looks at the matter that slowly flows down the customer's hand and into the jar, its light green with hints of silver, bronze and gold something within. Mark has never seen this before and as it drips down into the jar and meddles with the oozing of dark dark red and navy, it still maintains its beautiful nature.

Mark draws back his scalpel and looks at the stranger, who took back his hand to run his finger over his palm thats unscathed. Mark's thoughts are surrounded with anger, fear and trauma but as he looks at the stranger, but he refuses to act on them, they're not his.

Mark looks towards the jar and reaches to pick it up, his trembling hands cause the jar to shake and nearly fall off the edge of the counter, the customer reaches for the jar, his hand enveloping Mark's. By accident or not Mark doesn't know but when the stranger keeps his hand there and smiles he knows the answer.

With the customer's hand around the jar on top of Mark's he guides the jar to Mark's lips. Mark looks at him and, as if in approval, the stranger nods and Mark opens his mouth to let the liquid down his throat. It tastes of nothing in the best way. The aftertaste is sweet and nice on his parched throat and it's scent smells like sunflowers and sugar.

Mark lowers his hand thats holding the jar and the stranger takes his hand away, his hands are still shaking but not enough for him to need assistance anymore. He looks up at the stranger and, although his appearance didn't change, Mark just seemed to notice things this time. The placement of his moles, how his hair dried from the outside to be slightly curly- how long have they been in here? The way that although he gave him joy and hopefulness, he was still able to smile at him and the smile even reached his eyes.

Mark almost smiles back at him, but the stranger catches the upwards twitch on Mark's lips anyway and that seemed to satisfy him. As he nods at him and walks out of the shop into the thunderstorm. Mark goes over the counter and jogs to the store's door and opens it, the thunderstorm is gone alongside the stranger that gave him joy and hopefulness.

Mark goes back inside and starts closing up the store, like he was before the encounter, and takes his keys and jacket to leave through the back entrance. When he turns the lights off and steps outside it has already started to rain again. He forgot to bring his umbrella into work that day so he walked back home in the rain, listening to the way it hits his coat and tries to relax his nerves.

Mark feels the effects of the emotions and begins to hope that he sees the stranger again, perhaps in a different setting and on a day where he doesn't have to work. Either way, Mark found the boy interesting and if he was sober right now he would feel glad that he got to experience positive emotions again.


	2. Key Workers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys enjoyed the first chapter and originally I was just going to leave it at that but yeah, now it's a chaptered fic. I can't tell you how regular updates are going to be but I will try to keep myself accountable. Also, to all my key workers, and everyone in quarantine, STAY SAFE! I hope that I can provide at least a distraction through my writing.

Whoever set up the general thermostat for the city that morning must've done so with the hope of freezing Mark's ass off on his way go work. He already felt miserable as is, after yesterday's customer brought in his daughter and payed him for both of their emotions-  grief . The father spoke through tears as he explained that his wife died in a car accident and the two of them were finding it difficult to carry on with each day.

Hearing such words right before a stranger bestows those very feelings upon you is very ironic and Mark had to bite back a scoff whilst taking the suitcase of money and putting the notes into the currency-counting machine. 

Mark knows that's the point of his job.  _He knows_. That's why it pays so well, because the government deems it to be necessary. 

_"These are our essential workers who for the sake of others and through their own selflessness, have the honour of pursuing such a career. These individuals are whomst've we, the government, are proud to have as part of our economy. Therefore, they shall be treated with the utmost respect, following the-"_

Mark remembers the whole speech. It's hard not to when it's addressed by the Ethix Movement during conferences every Friday; followed by them being escorted out shortly after.

Mark appreciates the Ethix, they have strong morals compasses, but with their main goal of demolishing the vary things that gives Mark his income, his appreciation only stretches so far.

The thing is, his line of work used to be respected, when it first was established, that it is. 

Millionaires and only the very rich could afford such services and the workers were treated with respect. The key word being  were . Not even a couple decades after the introduction of Emotion Charity, prices dropped down tremendously, and at a steady-fast, the workers became one of the most disrespected workers in society. Being only for those who have no hope in a prosperous career and being poor- with people rather turning towards becoming Heathens over working for the Emotion Charity. 

Now Mark has to deal with the hollers from people in passing cars on their way to work. Some days the throwing food and spitting on him doesn't get to him, but after a long shift where he's had more donations of rage than he can count, he can't help but lash out, leaving him with various trips to the hospital. 

Thank fuck for the Charitable Workers Act being the only thing protecting him from being in debt to the over-priced healthcare system and prison for aggravated assault. 

Although, that doesn't stop the assaults from coming his way. He's never met an individual who has even bothered to look at him as a normal human being ever since he had to do this stupid job.

Well. Unless he counts that guy.

It's been over a month since he's last seen him, maybe two. He doesn't bother with dates anymore, but with the season change he makes an educated guess before he opens the door to the store and turns the light on, flipping the closed sign to show open to the outside.

First thing he notices is the reek of trauma seeping from behind the counter, just the smell beginning to make his anxiety peak and his t-shirt begin to stick to his back from sweat. He picks up the mop from out the back, and with a face mask on, mopping up the mess of the last worker on shift. Wasn't Taemin last on shift? Either him or Hoseok because only they could ever be this clumsy. 

As he's putting the mop away he hears the loud buzz of the front door of the store opening and he speed walks back to the counter. 

There's a man in the store, just... standing around.

"Erm, excuse me? May I help you?" he tries. It wouldn't be the first time people feel some embarassement turning towards the likes of him for help. A little encouragement is needed from the workers side sometimes.

The stranger looks back at him and then Mark gets a clear view of his face. The first thing he notices when he makes eye contact is the small scar beneath his eye, followed by the sharpness of his gaze and the way his coloured hair falls over his eyes, making the eye contact all the more piercing. 

"No, I'm good, just having a look around." and the strangers lips twitch in to something reminiscent of a smile before turning back to the walls of the store. 

It's not often customers look around the store- correction, look around the store in interest. Usually it's done out of nervousness as some have the decency of actually feeling bad for what they came here to do. 

Nevertheless, the stranger seems to take genuine interest into the walls, which are filled with all of the workers and the awards given from the government, Mark knows each piece as he's forced to clean them every shift due to its supposed value.  _Not a speck of dust_ _,_ his boss says. Back in the beginning days of Emotion Charities, the donators of the emotions would be photographed with the workers due to the prestige of the job and how much of an honour it was to do such a task. After the backlash of influential people not wanting to be associated with such lines of business, a lot of the awards and any sign of respect and accomplishment was taken into a warehouse somewhere and burned.

The Ethix weren't completely pleased with that either as one can imagine- alongside the Greens because of the amount of carbon monoxide released into the atmosphere after burning thousands upon millions of work done by people like Mark.

All fallen upon deaf ears as one can also imagine.

The buzz of the door opening takes Mark'sattention away from the odd man and towards the newcomers.

If he already wasn't as miserable as one can be, then Mark would feel horrible right now. 

He looks at the clock hanging above the door, it's about the time school finishes.

The group of teenagers enter the store, snickering to themselves and looking back at each other, not bothering to stiffle their smug grins.

One of them, steps forward, who Mark can only assume was trying to impress the girl that was hanging off of his arm.

The teenager throws a heap of cash onto the counter.

"Deposit of a kilogram of helplessness and half a kilo of misery." 

Great, exactly what Mark needed right now, he internally rolls his eyes.

One of the boys from behind the guy stacks another bunch of notes on top,

"Add on 25 grams of sleeplessness, will you?" he gets a high-five and a few playful shoves from his friends as they laugh.

Mark sighs and puts the money into the currency-counting machine whilst simultaneously reaching for his knife and extending his hand out once the machine shows the correct amount. £900.

"How much from each person or one?" he says.

"You do the math Emo, divide it between all of us, equal." the boy laughs and they all stand next to him, sleeves rolled up, as they watch the knife slice into the palm of his hand as Mark squeezes to get the emotions. Not proving very difficult so the dude probably has a lot of shit he wants to get rid. Mark takes satisfaction from hearing all of them hiss one by one as he digs the knife in, making sure it's not too painful as to not get a complaint filed against him.

The girl covers her nose and makes a disgusted face at the smell coming from the jar as it's her turn to release her emotions. 

"Doesn't your breath stink after taking these all day?" she snickers, it's a dumb question. Everyone knows that once emotions are able to make contact with an organism that is able to have feelings, then the smell disappears as the emotion is absorbed.

Mark just gives her a glance, not brave enough to glare but enough to let her know that he knows she's just trying to get under his skin.

And one by one the jar fills with emotions, the mixture swirling into an oninious dark colour that's so pigmented it almost looks two-dimensional. 

"Go on then, don't act as if you haven't seen this before. Drink up." one of the males wave their hand. 

If they wanted a show then Mark will give them a show, he has no choice really. 

He takes a quick glance and the man in the corner is now looking away from the wall and directly at him, fuelling the desire to prove himself although he doesn't have much to prove anyway. So he gulps down the whole glass in one go, not giving himself time to take a breathe. 

When he finishes and moves to clean the cup, he catches the mixture of amusement, wonder and impressed expressions from the group of teenagers until they realise he's looking and they all collectively switch back to smirking. But as he glances to the back of the store to see what expression the man had he noticed that he was nowhere in sight, he didn't even hear the bell of the store door opening when he left.


	3. Terrorists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is going to have discussions relating to politics- if you get offended by whatever is written, just know that it's written from the character's POV, thank you. 
> 
> Anyway, this is the breakdown in the fic thus far: The Rightists; far-right supporters, (think Republicans or Conservatives), Ethix Movement; people against Emotion Charities and the social system, The Greens; supporters for a 'greener' environment, (think the Green Party). The Anarx; supporters of the Anarchy ideal, (people wanting a lack of government/law causing social disorder due to absence of government control) and are considered extremists.

_"As more wealthy individuals gain interest in the Emotion Charities in our country, an increased amount of millionaires are enterring the country and requesting for donations. This has caused an uprising amongst both the working classes and the Rightists. We shall now be discussing one side of the argument with a well-known Rightist Mr Daeshim Park."_

The camera pans out and now shows both the news reporter alongside Daeshim Park.

He really wants to turn off the television but part of the job is to be aware of what's going on in politics constantly. 

_"Hi, hello, it's a pleasure to be here again."_ Daeshim smiles and it takes everything in Donghyuck to not throw the remote at the screen. 

_"Yes, last time you were here was during the uprising protests of the Ethix four years ago."_ and Daeshim laughs at the reporters words, whilst the reporter remains poker-faced. Donghyuck knows she's just doing that to appear unbiased, funny considering all of the media in the country is controlled by the government.

_"Yes, how could I forget? But I'm here to discuss another very prevalent issue with the world. I tend to be quite loud about my views on such topics however, this is a free country. So if I get any harassments from any social standpoint, I won't be afriad to take action."_

"Oh my god, just fucking skip right into the ignorance please." Yuta says from behind Donghyuck who smiles at that. Yuta was never the patient type- surprising that he hasn't completely blown their cover after so many years. 

"He needs to let the public know he has a small dick but big guys to help him silence anybody who disagrees with him." he replies.

_"The issue at hand isn't the aspect of these millionaires enterring the country, in fact, this is magnificent for the economy- the amount of clients the country has every day is commendable and other countries can only look in envy. However this is where the problem lies, these individuals come over, to our country, to steal what we have created to recreate."_

Donghyuck can sense all of the internal sighs and eyerolls from everybody else in the room watching the screen. And it takes everything in him to not want to burst out laughing. These Rightists really want the country to operate like it's fucking monopoly.

_"We have created this. We have the right to this. We are not going to have these foreigners using our Emotion Charities, the nations pride, as means to try to understand the practice- exploiting our key workers, for their selfish needs."_ Daeshim's voice begins to rise as he stares at the camera.

"He's getting into it." Doyoung says to the right of him.

_"Why should these people take, our concept of Emotion Charities, for them to boost their own economy? This is ours. And nobody should have the rights to try to compete against our Emotion Charities."_

"The irony in this makes me want to hurl." Donghyuck says. Taeyong just gives him a look from his chair to the left of him but goes instantly back to the screen.

"All Rightists care about is money this, money that, foreigners this, our economy that. Honestly, how have they still got so much support from the public." Yuta speaks up again.

"It's not the public, the public is mainly made up of working and middle classes, it's the older generations at the top- with their influence, that support the Rightists. Everyone else couldn't give two shits about other countries using Emotion Charities as long as they could get a raise and more welfare." Taeyong says, eyes still not leaving the screen as Daeshim's face continues to go red and his signature vein on his forehead begins to make an appearance.

Donghyuck doesn't need to hear the rest of Daeshim's speech after that, he can guess where it's going before those words even leave the mans mouth.

_"This is why me and my supporters want to campaign for a travel ban for individuals who work for the government in foreign countries. These are the individuals that are tipping off ministers to create their own Emotion Charities."_

"Yup, there it is." Donghyuck sighs at the same time that Yuta laughs.

"Rightists are a different breed of politics. They look like a whole circus." Yuta says through his smile.

Yuta is the more straighforward one of the group. He says what everyone is thinking in an unfiltered way, which is why he never could go to any Ethix protests during conferences. 

They all hate the Rightists. It's just that in a political setting you can't let your feelings get in the way of a debate that completely disrespects the other sides view. It has to all be facts, witness testimonies and level-headed thinking. 

Yuta and Donghyuck are alike in that way, they both couldn't care less about that, they just want to destroy the current government. Except Donghyuck can bite back his tongue and let himself appear unbothered. Yuta can't.

"Do they ever stop to consider that Emotion Charities weren't 'ours' to begin with," Doyoung gestures with his hands. "I just want the Rightists to admit that our government were the ones that stole the documents to create Emotion Charities from the French before their economy collapsed." he says as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

_"It's fake news."_ Yuta and Donghyuck say in unison with a mimicking tone.

Anything that paints the government in a negative light, the Rightists love to use that line.

"They say it's either that or its a conspiracy. Plus they consider people like us terrorists so honestly, what do you expect?" Donghyucks asks rhetorically. 

The interview finishes with Daeshim giving some statistics- if you want to call it that, about the outcomes of installing a travel ban for people who have a background profession of working in a government. 

Of course, as Donghyuck and probably the rest of them expected, the reporter didn't give the working classes input as they 'ran out of time'. 

He doubts they even were planning to include the working classes distaste in the introduction to the segment anyway, but they have to appear as unbiased as possible so- as much as Donghyuck hates to admit, it's kind of intelligent.

You could beat a bird up until it's on it's deathbed. But as you throw it some bread once in a while, it will still come back to you.

Just as Donghyuck is ready to get up off the sofa and go back into his room, the camera cuts to a male reporter freezing his ass off outside.

_"Reporting from just outside The Polygon site where a terrorist attack occured just seven minutes ago."_ everyone gives each other side glances, besides Taeyong whose eyes are glued to the screen. 

Donghyuck feels an overwhelming sense of dread as he swallows and feels his stomach tense. He's never experienced an anxiety attack but from what he's been told by Jungwoo who deals with them, he feels like he might just have one.

_"The Anarx have been the suspected attackers of the building behind me,"_ the screen switches to a helicopter view of one of the towers in The Polygon gathering in thick grey smoke.

"I'll call Renjun and Baekhyun." Taeyong says calmly, despite what they just heard.

Donghyuck- for lack of better terms, practically felt his heart fall through his asshole.

"I thought that the plan was supposed to be pushed back like- what the fuck, by a couple months at least? By then we would've been able to think up an excuse to get them out- what?" Doyoung says, sitting up, as Taeyong picks up his phone from the coffee table. 

"What I want to know is why the fuck they didn't say anything about it commencing. Who gives a fuck about whether it would look suspicious for them to just up and leave before the mission." Yuta says, his Japanese accent making an appearance with the rise in tension.

"You know what they're like, invincible-  _we're gonna be fine we fit right into the Anarx, who doesn't like blowing shit up once in a while._ " Donghyuck mimics as he tries to pick up the atmosphere when he sees Jungwoo, from the corner of his eye, fiddle with the rips in his jeans and pulling at the threads.

"Save it, them being safe is the priority right now." Taeyong says, leaving the room as he calls for either Renjun or Baekhyun.

They all stand up, leaving the television on, as they follow Taeyong into the the long hallways of their underground hideout.


	4. Addict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find it funny how I have work due for my Politics lessons that I'm not doing but instead writing a fic that has a lot of political themes. I wonder if my teacher would be proud if I sent this as an assignment instead. 
> 
> (Also, if I cock up on any grammar I'm going to use the excuse that English isn't my first language, even though I've lived in England since I was 6 so yeah it it what it is.)

Mark's apartment is very much bare bones.

He went for a more minimalist approach to his home, not necassarily like he had any other option to. When he came into the city after dropping out of university to look for work, he didn't exactly bring much with him. His university gave him two days to pack up all of his life into a few suitcases before they would take back the keys to his home. 

He mainly opted to pack necessities over memorable items; clothes, shoes and hygiene products. He regrets that decision, as he now knows those necassities could have been easily bought with his first pay check after becoming a worker for the Emotion Charity. 

The only reason he could afford to live in an apartment near The Polygon so soon to becoming a worker is because it's funded to him by the government- that is as long as he remains a key worker. 

Living in the city's centre has both it's positives and negatives- he's able to commute easily to work by just walking but also is subjected to the harassment and assault from others. It's pretty obvious he's an Emo, from his work attire. 

The bright letters of Emotion Charity Worker on his badge and the symbol of a sun and moon on the back of his work shirt is eye-catching. What used to be a symbol of pride and selflessness is now something he's discriminated against by other workers of the system.

So the first thing he does as soon as he's back in his apartment, is changing out of his clothes to shower.

When he turns on the lights in his bathroom he can't help but his mirror. After starting work for the Emotion Charity his reflection didn't feel like his own, much like the emotions he has aren't his either. Sometimes he just wants to cover the mirror up with like a blanket or something- just to not have to see the physical effects the job has on him.

The eyebags.

The swollen and red eyes.

The pale skin.

The weight loss.

Was this really what the nation's pride looks like? 

He looks away from the mirror in favour of stepping into his shower and playing music from the built-in speakers within. He left his phone in the trousers of his work clothes and he couldn't be bothered to get it to have the speakers connect to his playlist. 

He scrubs his body until it feels tight and red marks bloom all over him to get rid of the disgusting smell of the emotions from today and brushes his teeth twice. But no matter how much time he spends washing himself he still smells them, it could be his paranoia and obsessiveness that he took today- and every other day for that matter.

He steps out the shower with the radio still playing and towel dries himself before stepping into a pair of shorts and one of his massive hoodies.

He steps out the bathroom and shivers when the steam from the bathroom and the contrast between the coolness of his apartment makes him shiver. 

He reachers for one of the cigarette packets and lighter on his dining table, that he saw no point in eating at, and walked towards the sliding door of his balcony.

He was greeted with fresh air and the cage surrounding his balcony- a safety measure granted to him by the government. Making it all the more obvious to the other tennants who resides in their apartment and in turn, ensuring none of them will ever want to befriend Mark. 

He looks at all the other tennants' balconies, open, and wishes he could live there instead. 

He used to have a designated therapist three years ago that he saw twice a week, Mondays and Fridays, that were an essential aspect of his work. Whether it be Mark's bad luck or timing, that same year cuts were made to that department in mental health in favour of raising the wages of the soldiers- the other nation's pride that was actually treated like they were the nation's joy. Apparently there was no use treating mental health issues that weren't there's to begin with- _"pointless"_ Rightists called it.

He turns to his cigarette packet and lights it, hating the smell of it already. 

He hates smoking. But a year ago the government allowed for dependancy to be donated and now he's a smoker.

He remembers the queues outside of the store of business men and women looking to sell their dependancy to Mark the same day the new clause in the Emotion Charity Donations Act was enforced.

He also remembers the amount of shit that clause encounterred- from both the Ethix and the Rightists. 

The Ethix Movement knew that inflicting an individual with an addiction was against The Human Rights Act but also morals in general- Ethix loved their morals.

The Rightists knew the increased lack of dependsncy would case the tobacco and alcohol industry to ruin the economy- that matter was quickly solved by the government saying that such major cooporations will no longer be taxed. 

Leaving the working classes with cheaper booze and tobacco than ever before, more addictions according to the World Health Organisation, a boom in tobacco and alcohol industries and once again the Ethix and working class left in the fucking dirt. At least Mark gets payed for becoming an addict unlike the rest.

Just as he was about to flick the ashes of his cigarette he's hit with a wave of smoldering warmth, making it difficult to breathe for a moment and his eyes shutting upon impact. 

As he opens them he sees in the distance one of The Polygon towers on fire- he doesn't look long enough to tell which one. As he hears the explosion a few seconds later he jumps slightly and feels his hands start shaking.

He runs inside, closing the balcony door shut with a slam and proceeds to have a panic attack on the cold floor. 

This is a regular occurence- comes with the job, but they never fail to terrify him everytime they happen. 

He covers his face with his hands as he tries not to let himself hyperventilate, all of the copinf strategies in therapy disappearing from his mind and out the window where he knows the commotion is.

He feels like he's going to genuinely die as his chest begins to ache and his limbs dtart to have the sensation of pins and needles, preventing him from getting out of his fetus position to turn the shower radio off as the news anchor begins to talk about what just happened. 

_"-terrorist attack..."_

Is as much as Mark can gather, sending his whole body into a state of impending doom, his adrenaline causing his heart to hammer out of his chest and he can feel his heartbeat in his head. 

His legs don't listen to him as he tries to get them to move to the bathroom as soon as he feels bile rise in his throat. 

He quickly moves his head to the side to throw up on the floor instead of himself. 

The retching and vomitting seemed to snap him out of his panic attack, as all he can do his clench onto his stomach and heave as he remains sat on the floor. 

He lifts his head up, looking at the digital clock.

_Twenty three minutes._

It felt more like a fucking eternity.


	5. Terra Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update because why not. For anybody who doesn't know: Ignise is latin for fire, Aqua is latin for water, Terra is latin for earth and Caeli is latin for air. I felt like these names relate best to how the society views the different towers. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy reading!

Mark had the day off today, following what happened yesterday. That's the way usual procedure goes in the city after an attack or protest. The key workers are expected to stay home and out of harms way. Truthfully, these are the only moments Mark feels that he's truly considered a key worker that needs to be protected.

The news anchor said that following the terrorist attack yesterday, 32 deaths and 401 casualties following the attack on the the third tower, the Terra tower- consisting of the skillful workers. The ones that are controlled by the second tower, Aqua, and those are puppeteered by the first tower, Ignis. 

The fourth tower, the Caeli tower, are unskilled workers. Even though Mark doesn't think a thing such as an 'unskilled' worker exists, but that's the division of labour in the city. If he hadn't landed himself as a worker for the Emotion Charity, then that would've been where he would've ended up. Or worse, a Heathen. Mark shudders.

As much as Emotion Charity workers are disrespected and treated like utter shit, at least he has a, (really extravagant) roof over his head, food to eat, and money in his bank account unlike the Heathens. 

He's heard stories about them back when he was in university. How the woman were prostitutes, sold their children's virginities, how the children slept ontop of each other for warmth in the alleyways. How the men there were all alcoholics and drug addicts, how they would assault the women living amongst their shared filth. 

As much as Mark hates his profession, he knows he's, in a lot of ways, far better off. Although, just because some people out there have it worse than him, doesn't mean that, in a lot of ways, they have it better than him.

The lack of ingesting people's undesirable emotions being one of them.

The emotions of others wear off at different hours- mostly the more expensive the emotion the longer he will feel it in his body. And with increased intake of emotions, the more intense and the longer they will last. So Mark can't decisively say when was the last time his feelings were his own. 

He can't help the anger he feels towards himself sometimes. He's supposed to be selfless, considerate and prideful. That's what the nation says he should be. Yet he feels like he's anything but.

He's constantly filled with negative and traumatic emotions that cause days to melt into one and his brain being constantly tired. He never caught a break.Unless he counts that one time.

The memory always finds it's way back to him, the boy that looked like he had all of the light there was in the world trapped inside of him, making him shine at the edges. How could one give up such an emotion? Mark doesn't understand.

He would do  anything  to be as happy as he could be, considering how much he took the feeling for granted. So for someone to just turn up at the store and giving it away at such a low price, frustrated, intrigued and confused him. He could never decide what he felt about the situation- it always depended on what he ingested that day. But as his body is able to catch a small break- although a lot of emotions are still lingering in his system, he indefinitely concludes that he hopes to see the boy again.

_"And now, we shall kneel for the president's speech."_

Mark scrambles to get down on his one knee and bow his head down at the screen.

He hears the city's clock strike twelve.

_"Good afternoon everyone."_

Mark hears Junghwa Kim's voice loud and clear through the television and closes his eyes.

_"I have come forward today to relay an important message today, following the...unfortunate events of yesterday."_

Mark's eyelids flashback to the scene he saw yesterday. First the incredible heat. Then the Terra tower. The thick grey smoke. He inhales deeply and tries imagining the image of a pentagon expanding and compressing to calm himself down. It would be considered disrespectful to have a panic attack as the president speaks. Even though he's supposed to be alone in his apartment.

_"These individuals, were not only skilled workers of the Terra tower, but also friends and family. Most importantly, vital members of keeping our society functioning. These are the individuals who provide us with the buildings that stretch into the sky, the teachers that are in our children's school, and ones who proved themselves to be worthy of moving upwards from the Caeli tower."_

Mark furrows his brows but quickly relaxes them as he hears the words.

_"This behaviour is utterly absurd. And me, alongside my cabinet, refuse to stand by this. We shall rise above this. We are stronger than this. No amount of terrorism shall be superior over the way in which our society functions."_

Mark hears the anger rising in the president's voice before it reverts back to its monotonous tone.

_"We are doing everything in our power to get to the bottom of this horrific attack. These groups of terrorists are not welcome in this country, and we are going to find out who these individuals are, capture them, and serve the country justice...Stay safe. Do it for our country. Goodbye."_

Mark opens his eyes and looks back up, as the president retreats from the mic stand and is surrounded by security, walking back up to The Sanctum where the president and his cabinet reside.

He could never tell whether it was the paranoia that he recieves almost daily from clients or genuine concern that he's being watched. 

Personally, he would never kneel down for someone like Junghwa Kim or his cabinet. Something that, again, an Emotion Charity worker shouldn't think.

He sighs and gets up to have a cigarette on the balcony. Before he steps out onto the balcony he notices the construction that's happenin on the Terra tower, whatever healthy skilled workers being used to rebuild the tower.

When he opens the door to sit down and have a cigarette he tries to not look towards the Terra tower, and instead towards the Ignis tower. 

It was obvious to everyone which tower was which, even if you were from abroad, just from the way each one was built. The Ignis tower being the most prestigious, looks exquisite and apparently took millions to make. He wished he could be in the Ignis tower. Be  _in_ the tower, not be a part of what occurs there. None of the people that are there haven't sabotaged some sort of thing in order to become the top 1%. He doesn't continue with that thought though. 

That's part of the Ethix role not his. He's jus an Emotion Charity worker. 

Thinking of Ethix, he wonders if that man who came to the store when those teenagers were there is part of the movement. 

Mark has heard from Taemin who heard from someone else who was told about certain rumours in relation to the Ethix. How they want to recruit over more Emotion Charity workers into the movement. And that they do this through apparently they donate large amounts of superiority in order to manipulate people like him to join them to ban Emotion Charities. 

Those are just rumours though. Mark doubts that people who's sole purpose is to bring about a more ethical and moral environment would use the very thing they're against, to use as a form of winning supporters over. 

As for other political standpoints though... 

He looks over to the Terra tower through the balcony's bars as he stumps out his cigarette.


	6. Long Jump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incase you didn't realise it already, this story is very plot heavy. But trust, you will get your markhyuck eventually.

"We literally escaped from- basically, a suicide mission and you're really going to complain?" Baekhyun's fed up.

"Yes, because after all of that shit, we ended up in the fucking sewers." Renjun retorts, forcing a pout from forming. He knows that he will have to throw his Yeezy's out after this and he's less than happy.

"And we can't even call Taeyong for fuck sake. Why did they think that by taking the Anarx members phones that the government won't track us anyway?" Renjun carries on.

"Like, I'm 80 percent sure that they have some person monitoring the members' every move." Renjun says, readjusting the grip on his sleeve to cover his nose.

"What? Like a mole?" Baekhyun slows down his pace to match Renjun's more.

"Look, if you knew that there were people who hate everything that you stand for, and would very much like to put your head up on a stake, wouldn't you have people monitoring them? Plus we're moles, it's probably not all that difficult for someone else to pretend to live and breath the Anarx." Renjun implies.

"If that were the case then they would've found the underground system long ago. If they found that, then they could literally find all groups who don't want to conform." Baekhyun says through his elbow, approaching a cross section and turning left, pulling Renjun along.

"I don't even want to think about that. We'd all be better off dead." Renjun says. He doesn't want to think about what's going to happen to the Anarx members who got caught by the police today but his mind fills with images anyway. 

He's just glad it's not him or Baekhyun.

His mind still goes back to the boy his age, a cute eye smile which contained fire whenever conversations regarding the government started. 

Him and Renjun agreed on practically everything. Junghwa is an asshole. Change needs to happen or they're all doomed. Leaving school to become part of the underground. Missing their parents, their friends from the outside. How unfair the system is. How Emotion Charities should be abolished. The  only thing setting them apart was what made Jeno an Anarx and him a Vox. 

Renjun wanted justice, whilst Jeno wanted revenge. 

"What do you think the rest are thinking right now, it's most definitely been on the news all day, bet." Baekhyun says, placing his hand on Renjun's sagging shoulder and massaging it slightly.

Renjun snorts.

"I'm more concerned about what they're reactions are going to be like when we step through the door." Renjun says.

"Who do you think Yuta will punch, me or you?" Baekhyun asks. "I know they're going to be mad that we didn't contact them and made them worried." he pauses. "Oh my god, imagine what Taeyong is like right now." Renjun makes eye contact with Baekhyun and they both burst out laughing.

"He's probably all like, calm and collected but he's shitting himself on the inside." Renjun says through wheezes.

"Honestly, when will he drop the cool guy exterior, he has a scar under his eye from atopy and walks around like he got it fighting off a tiger." Baekhyun snorts and inhales deeply.

"Right, c'mon I think it's this way." Baekhyun jumps over the water at the intersection to go straight. Renjun swallows and Baekhyun looks back.

"C'mon, I'm sure even with your little legs you can manage that jump." Renjun knows it's probably too dark for Baekhyun to see his glare but he throws one anyway.

"Fuck you, I used to be top at long jump in school, I just don't fancy possibly stinking more than I already do. I might hurl." Renjun says as he backs up to jump.

"You're always so dramatic." Baekhyun says as he looks at Renjun leap over the water with a yelp and landing at his side, surprisingly gracefully.

"Long jump huh? What else did you do in school?" Renjun straightens himself out t walk besides Baekhyun.

"Oh you know, Maths, English, Sciences, the history of the greatest Junghwa Kim's ruling, how bad life was before his command, nearly being excluded for not kneeling for the pledge, convincing Jaemin to run away and join the underground with me. Normal stuff really." Renjun smiles.

"You guys really get excluded for not kneeling for the pledge?" Baekhyun raises his eyebrows in interest.

"Well duh- oh wait, you're from a different generation my bad." Renjun puts up his hand to defend his arm before the incoming hit.

"I'm not that old, you're just too young. But yeah, in 'my times'," Baekhyun gestures with one hand, "You could choose whether to kneel or not, he was a new president then so nobody had to be loyal to him." he says.

"So... how vividly do you remember a time before that dickhead came into power?" Renjun asks. He tries to lighten up the question but he knows that Baekhyun knows what he's really asking.

"It was...it's a shame you guys never got to experience it." he says before sighing.

"No Emotion Charities, no Polygon, there was still social classes but not in the way it is now. Back then it was all-"

"Eat the rich?" Renjun smiles.

"Yeah, but now if you say that shit it's extremism. The wealthy have always had power but, yeah, they do now more than ever."

"So is that why your originally joined the Ethix?" Renjun asks.

"Oh? No, no. Things sure were better then but they were far from good. Ethix want to go back to the way things used to be, but I don't even want that." Baekhyun says seriously. 

"I just needed to find like minded people... like Taeyong and Yukhei, to build Vox because-"

"If we're gonna fight for change it might as well be an improvement on what once was." Renjun supplies looking at Baekhyun with a smile.

"You see? You joined the right-" Baekhyun haults. 

Renjun was about to ask him what's wrong before he hears it too. The rumbling of cheers from above- very faint, but he catches it. He feels his heart jump into his throat.

"We're nearly there, you can see the light look." Baekhyun says as his footsteps quicken towards the round opening in the sewers to the underground.

Renjun tries to ignore the water dripping from above him as the cheers cause the ceiling ti vibrate as he picks up his feet to walk faster. 

He doesn't believe in God but he hopes to _something_ that Jeno is okay.


	7. The Sanctum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the support I've recieved from y'all. I'm so grateful that you guys are enjoing this because I am too >_<. Also, the way I seperate chapters is by a switch in POV or scene. However, if you guys would prefer longer chapters but with a separation in POV/scene within the same chapter then let me know. Keep in mind this would also mean, the updates wouldn't be as frequent :)

Donghyuck's hands shake with adrenaline as he hides them in the pocket of his grey hoodie. Black would be too cliché for what they're about to do. Even though he looks to Taeyong infront him, decked out in all black.

He knows Doyoung is two rows and three people to the left behind him. Yuta is on the same row as him, twenty-one people to the right. He has to school his face into neutrality as to avoid smiling when Yuta secretly winks at him. 

He met up with Jaemin that morning. He looked beyond exhausted but still had his usual bright smile and was overly clingy. Donghyuck let him, considering they only get to see each other twice a week. And he may miss his presence at times in the Vox headquarters.

He said Ethix are supposed to be outside of the Sanctum right about now, protesting against the execution of the Anarx members responsible for the attack on the Terra tower.

The Sanctum is home to the one and the only bastard Junghwa Kim, who when Donghyuck looks to his left, is sat up in his seperate booth, watching over the execution site, stationed in the middle of the Sanctum. 

He wonders what it's like for Taeyong.

Seeing your father be one of the multiple security guards up in the booth.

Taeyong basically had his whole life planned out for him, he would've worked in the Ignis tower, married a pretty girl from an equally wealthy family, and have a son to pass down the family name. 

Donghyuck wouldn't know if he would have the guts to give up a, practically perfect life, for the sake of Vorx.

Well he does know. 

Just the fact that he has to look  up at the prick instead of be able to look down at him and spit in his face speaks volumes.

His mind silences as he hears the all-too familiar tune of the national anthem and he clenches his jaw as Taeyong gives him a warning look before kneeling down for the pledge like everyone else.

He follows. Except he forces himself into a deep lunge instead od putting his knee down. No matter what he would never kneel for Junghwa ever again. He chances a glance at Yuta and puffs his cheeks to avoid smiling as he notices Yuta's posture tense and shaking- he's doing the same thing.

Donghyuck looks up towards the opposite side of the Sanctum, where the nation's pride sit. The Emotion Chairty workers. Where his eyes land on a particularly large figure that no amount of kneeling could hide the height. Yukhei is on one knee except his head isn't exactly down tucked under his chin like it's supposed to. He looks next to him to see a boy in a deep kneel- perfect posture- something teachers used to use as an example when teaching how to kneel for the pledge. Taemin mentioned his shifts at the charity are back-to-back with a Mark and a Hoseok. But with how tucked in the boy's face is, he can't tell which one was the one he met that one time. 

That boy looked like the epitome of everything he despises about the system.

The sullen look in his eyes.

How frenzied his gaze was.

The dark under-eye circles that he knows must be from countless sleepless nights.

How skinny his fingers were when they wrapped around his hand to extract the emotions out.

Just remembering the boy fires his adrenaline up again, forcing himself to look away before he stands up and does something he won't regret but wouldn't help the mission whatsoever. He recalls the fuss of him and Taemin having to break Yuta out of jail because he stood up from the Pledge too early. 

He squints next to the boy to see a mop of hair he immediately knows to be Taemin's and how his fists are clenched instead of relaxed.

"Good morning everyone."

He looks at Taeyong. He doesn't know whether to be surprised or not considering he was the one that gave him the glare, but he's kneeling on the wrong knee- only excusable if you have a medical condition preventing you from kneeling on the left knee. Which they all know he doesn't. 

"We have gathered here today, into the Sanctum, following the tragedy that occured two days ago."

Donghyuck hears some of the hushed crying from seats around him. He hears Junghwa sigh dramatically into the microphone. 

_What a fucking liar._

He couldn't care less about what happened, if it was any of the Heathens he wouldn't bat an eye.

"32 of our brothers and sisters were murdered. And 401 were critically injured." 

Donghyuck catches the quiet rustle of papers.

"These people, could be your parents, siblings, close friends, cousins. Most importantly, these are our people. Whomst spent hours upon hours, strengthening our country... just for them to be brutally murdered. And for what? Because of extremism."

He hears the opening of the main doors, lifting his gaze as far as he can without anyone noticing him lifting his head up, towards the people who were walking into the middle of the Sanctum.

"Individuals who want to do everything in their power to destroy everything that our brothers and sisters have worked so hard for. Taking their lives for the sake of their own selfish needs." 

_Two, four, six, eight, so many people._

They all have their heads covered with black bags that are tied at their necks, he can't recognise anybody just by their figures.

He looks at their hands to hopefully spot Renjun's birthmark or Baekhyun's dainty fingers but they're all taped up and zip tied.

"These very people, are the reason for our mourning, grief and suffering. It wouldn't serve any of the families justice to have these monsters living free in our prisons. They don't deserve the money that the state and it's citizens provide for rehabilitation insitutions."

He can hear Taemin beginning his crying act. 

Emotion Charity workers, under the Charitable Workers Act, are the only exceptions to completing the Pledge. Due to their increased amount of negative emotions they're allowed to be escorted into the building of the Sanctum where they can express any emotions without disturbing the rest of the Pledge.

"These Anarx members- these extremists, deserve the same fate as the innocent lives they've taken. This is the sole way, we can bring about justice in this horrific course of events."

Donghyuck takes in deep breathes as he tries not to laugh at the way Taemin is basically scream crying to get the guard's attention so he can be escorted into the building, and secretly unlock the doors to the Sanctum, where the Ethix will be outside to protest.

If everything goes according to plan. Everyone would have to be escorted out of the Sanctum through the right doors whilst Ethix protestors will come flooding in from the left. The guards will be more focussed on arresting and tear gassing the Ethix than the citizens.

Donghyuck notices the pause in Junghwa's speech.

And as he hears Taemin's cries start to fade and become distant, he prepares himself to bolt. 


	8. A Luxury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *taps mic* oki back to business. hope y'all enjoy, it's been a while- oops.

Mark hates that he has to be here, alongside everyone else in the city- well, everyone except the Heathens who are never accepted anywhere near the Sanctum or the Caeli tower, they're always having to work.

"Mark."

He looks over towards one of the rows of seats, noticing Yukhei and Taemin sat next to each other and they wave him over. 

They've worked for the Emotion Charity for around half a year, Mark remembers being told their supervisor since he worked at the store downtown probably the longest and their shifts lined up well. 

The first time Yukhei ingested fury was... memorable, to say the least. 

His large build and animalistic look that day made Mark call his boss, effectively dispatching Yukhei from work that day since it was his first shift.

Mark remembers having to comfort a crying Taemin in the staff bathrooms after he tended to a customer's emotions, who had a miscarriage.

After the first few shifts, Yukhei and Taemin were able to work independantly and Mark saw them during lunchtimes and whenever they walked past each other when taking over shifts.

Taemin shuffled over so Mark can sit in between them and sighs.

"You gonna be good?" Yukhei says, looking at him with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Even though they're in the same profession, both Yukhei and Taemin still have that light in there eyes that he can't seem to find in his own when he tries. 

But they're still considered new and they only work part-time whilst he works full-time.

"You're asking me as if you didn't just get off your shift." Mark replies.

"I helped him out, I knew that we would have to come here straight after." Taemins joins in.

"Ah, so what did you get then?" Mark lowers his voice so only they- hopefully, can hear. Worker policy- you can't discuss anything about the customer's outside of the workplace.

"Bereavement." Yukhei leans in.

Mark's eyes widen.

"That's like-"

"The worst emotion to have right now, yes." Taemin says.

"How- how are you gonna manage?" Mark tries not to panic and worry as the national anthem begins to play as he kneals down. 

He closes his eyes shut and wills the anxiety away, as if that has  ever worked, but he tries anyway as he kneels down.

"Good morning everyone."

The Anarx members that were responsible for the attack on the Terra tower were found and arrested. Yesterday the news broadcasted the time the doors open to the Sanctum for the execution.

This is the first time since becoming an Emotion Chairty worker that he has had to be present at the Sanctum for an execution. 

A side of him is glad that he if he were to want to leave, he would be able to do so under the excuse that he's an Emotion Chairty worker. Feelings being overwhelming and all that.

Hehears Taemin sniffle from beside him and almost goes to comfort him bur remains in his knealing position. He dares to take a sneaky glance to look at him but Taemin's head is low and he can't see his face.

He's not even focusing on what the president is saying, as he's trying to hold back his own tears that are threatening to spill over hearing Taemin beside him.

His cries are increasing in volume and Mark himself is trying to not get hysterical and overcome with emotions. Next thing he knows, the president stops talking and Taemin's escorted from beside him. 

When the guards turn towards him and he feels a hand on his shoulder he shakes and looks up.

The guard looks at him with pity and whispers something to the other guard that's holding Taemin.

"Would you like to come with us?" Mark can tell that nice tone is forced but he nods his head quickly anyway and he's hauled up by a guard that's suddenly behind him. 

He notices the president has stopped talking as him and Taemin are ascending down the stairs of the Sanctum. 

Mark can't help but let the tears fall down his cheeks due to the overwhelming shame of being so vulnerable in front of thousands of people from the city. 

They probably think of him as so shameless to use his privelege of being just an Emo to get out of witnessing the execution. That if he wasn't an Emotion Chairty worker he would amount to nothing. That he doesn't even deserve to sit with the key worker section of the Sanctum.

He can't tell whether this is genuine emotions or the ones he was donated but they're filling his mind and as he descends further into the main building of the Sanctum, away from the prying eyes of the public, away from the Anarx members, away from the execution site, he manages to even his breath out so he's not gasping in hysterics.

"Sit here and calm down." the guards place him and Taemin on a comfy and expensive looking bench in the Sanctum.

He feels Taemin reaching out to him and looks his way, before looking at him properly he's pulled into a tight embrace and Taemin all but wails into his shirt, causing tears to spring back into Mark's eyes.

"Should we just leave them?" he hears one of the guards say but doesn't look up, it's already humiliating sobbing in front of such intimidating men.

One of them laughs.

"'Course, what the fuck are they gonna do? They're just Emo's, let them get over it. I want to see the execution of those bastards." 

And they all laugh.

"Oi." he feels a tap on his shoulder and looks up. Piercing, predatory eyes looking back at him.

"We will come back to get you, don't go wandering around nowhere or we  will make you regret it. Nobody will even notice you gone, boy." the guard smiles and Mark shivers as he feels the touch from his shoulder gone.

As the guard's steps begin to get further and further away until a door slams shut, Taemin gathers himself and untangles his arms from around Mark.

Mark looks at him properly.

"What? You-" Taemin smiles back at him.

"You weren't crying?" Mark looks at Taemin as he stands up and fixes his clothes from where the guards dragged him.

"No, but you were." Taemin looks at him.

"Erm, yeah? Taemin, I know executions aren't...nice but you can't just-"

"Use my rights?" Mark pauses.

"Well...not like that. I thought I was going to have a fucking panic attack, are you kidding me?" Mark tries not to raise his voice but he's seething. This is exactly the reason why people hate Emo's. And he's  sick of being treated like shit because of people who act like Taemin just did.

"Don't you think our rights are... kinda of messed up?" Taemin squats in front of him so they're directly facing each other. For someone who took a breacement donation Taemin looks...fine. Mark doesn't know whether it's the paranoia he's always been donated or genuine suspicion.

"You know, calling us key workers doesn't make us important. It's to make us feel better about our position." 

Mark furrows his brows.

"What are you even talking about. Look, I don't know why you're acting like this but please stop I can't do this." 

"Mark." Taemin grabs his hands and squeezes them.

"What were you like before you started working for the Emotion Charity?" Taemins asks with genuine intrigue.

"Well... very poor, alone, and on my way to becoming a Heathen if I hadn't joined the Emotion Charity. Why?"

Mark doesn't like to think of those times very much. In fact, he doesn't like to think at all because what's there to think of. He's got a secure job, nice house, good income, that's his life and it's what everyone else in the city can only hope for.

"Well, yeah I know but, apart from that." 

"There's nothing apart from that Taemin. Now can you please tell me what the fuck is going on?"

"Would you say you were happy?" Taemin disregards his question.

"Of course not, I was about to become a Heathen what's-"

"But would you say you had the  ability to experience happiness?" Taemin asks, gaze still trained on him and Mark can't help but look down because of it's intensity. Since when was Taemin like this?

"Well, yeah, duh. I wasn't having to ingest people's unwanted emotions everyday." Taemin looks at the clock above them.

"I will have to cut to the chase."

"What-"

"Mark." Taemins stands up, their hands still entertwined together. Mark doesn't know why but he feels the inside of his stomach turn.

"Yeah?"

"What if I told you, that you could have that back- the ability to feel happiness again?" Taemin looks at him seriously and Mark's mind wants to laugh but his body doesn't allow him. He knows what it feels like to get bereavement. More than once, or twice, or three times and so on. He doesn't know whether to take Taemin seriously. 

Happiness.

Something that seems like a luxury.

He feels the perspiration gathering on his forehead as he realizes the connotations of what his mind is trying to get at. But the years he's spent, being treated like a Heathen when he's supposed to be the nation's pride.

_Nation's pride._

Nothing about what he does makes him feel a sense of pride. And others don't view him like that either.

"You know," Taemin further gets into his personal space, 

"Just because they give us additional rights because of our work, doesn't erase the lack of other rights they've taken from us."

Days he's spent cowering in the corner of his spacious- too big, of an apartment because of a panic attack. The way he pukes with the feeling of guilt when he's been ingesting criminals' emotions. The anger that's not his causing him several injuries to himself out of hatred and nowhere to let it out.

The disappointment on his friends faces when he had to drop out lessons because of his job. The way they all looked at him with pity- not pride. How they slowly stopped replying to his messages overtime.

He can't put a name to the emotion he feels bubbling in his chest.

But for the first time, he thinks- knows, that that emotion is  his.

"And how would you do that?" he whispers. He's terrified of what this discovery within himself entails. But Taemin just squeezes his hands, zoning him back in. And he smiles at him. A genuine smile.

"I know you've ingested paranoia but- you're going to have to trust me."

•••

Donghyuck looks to his right, mirroring Yuta's tense jaw.

What the fuck his taking him so long?

Right when he's sure that something has gone terribly wrong he hears it. 

The chanting of the Ethix. 

And slowly, so does the rest of the Sanctum as they get closer.

The microphone goes silent as he notices the president being escorted out with the guards, Taeyong's father holding the president by the arm to move him to safety.

"Citizens, please use the south main exit to remove yourself from the Sanctum." the automated voice blares from the speakers, repeatedly telling people to leave.

However, by the third notice and just as people start getting up from their knealing positions, the front doors burst open and the Ethix burst in.

Donghyucks runs through the rows and crowds of people as all the citizens don't know where to go out of panic. 

Children crying, parents shouting, people being trampled on, arguments over who bumped into who. It's fair to say, it's utter chaos. 

"Hyuck!" Taeyong calls as he catches up with him.

The Anarx members are fighting their restraints as the guards are outnumbered by the Ethix protestors whilst trying to keep the Anarx members from running away.

Him, Taeyong, Yuta and Doyoung are all within the execution site. The protestors are everywhere, fighting the guards, spray painting the Sanctum, throwing whatever they can get their hands on at the guards.

There's no plan about who is looking for who. It's whoever spots them first and leaves to their checkpoint.

Most of the Anarx members are fighting against their restrains and running away, he scans the crowd Donghyuck notices one of them with a familiar silhouette, using the knife off of a guard who's on the ground to cut his binds, before quickly removing the black bag over his head and a mop of black hair appears. 

Donghyuck B-lines towards him, covereing his eyes the best he can as the guards start spraying tear gas.

"Hey! Hey, Baek!" he shouts, narrowly missing an Ethix who tackles a guard next to him.

"What?" the man looks at him, chest heaving and a confused look as they make eye-contact.

Donghyuck's muscles tense.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"You're not- fuck, do you know of a Baekhyun or Renjun?" Donghyuck gathers his breath, realising there's a guard right behind the man, charging at them. 

"Yeah, but-" the man looks around and Donghyuck looks at where he's looking. The guards dragging an unmasked Anarx member into the Sanctum by the hair.

Donghyuck loops his arm around the man and drags him, swerving through the overwhelming crowd. There's no chance of him seeing any of his Vox members so he goes straight for the south exit where the civilians are pushing and shoving to get out at the same time.

Donghyuck forces himself to duck as he sneaks through them all without making any eye contact, arm still wrapped tightly behind the man. 

"Fuck, there's so many people." he mutters to himself.

"Yeah, wanting to see me dead." the man says behind him with a smirk. 

Donghyuck doesn't know who he is, but the confidence that he exudes already makes him want to be his friend despite the fact that he would've been very much dead if it wasn't for Jaemin and the Ethix.

He eases himself a little at the thought of Jaemin just spray painting the Sanctum instead of knocking the guards out- which Donghyuck would have done gladly if he was in Jaemin's position. But he's glad he's choosing the option that's ensuring he isn't going to get hurt unless the guards catch him.

Jaemin did speed skating back when they were in school. He'll be fine.

The crowd moves and they're being shoved against frantic bodies. Donghyuck feels the grasp he has on the man slip slightly, but the man clings onto the fabric of his clothes and pulls himself through the barrier of people separating them.

"I know we just met but I'm taking you somewhere safe, so we can talk." Donghyuck manages to wheeze out as a woman with a child elbows him in the chest.

He hears the man laugh.

"I'm sure anywhere is safe for me instead of here." 

Donghyuck just nods and finally gets them through the exit with a final shove, ignoring the insults shouted at them as they run away from the Sanctum. 

Whilst everyone mainly goes through the city's fountain and into the Polygon towers for the headcount, Donghyuck and the Anarx member jog through one of the alleys, that directly leads them through some of the rougher parts of town.

These have been occupied by some Heathens but not enough to deam it unsafe just yet. Mainly the drug addicted and starving roam these alleys, hoping for a passer by to spare them change.

They slow down to a brisk walk, not willing to slow as some of the Heathens behind the bins m begin to awaken at their loud footsteps, and any minute now, start to bombard them with offers of sex or labour in exchange for any cash.

Donghyuck glances back once in a while whenever they swerve through the alleys to make sure the Anarx is following him.

"Disgusting."

Donghyuck head twitches.

"What?" 

"The way they have been forced to live..." the man says, not hiding the way he stares at a woman breastfeeding a child on the floor who looks too old to be drinking from his mother.

"We're nearly there. Me and some of my friends have planned to meet down here." 

Donghyuck stops at the dead end of an alley and knowing he's about to be faced with a confused expression.

"Down? As in you mean..." the man's gaze falls upon the drain beneath them.

"The only thing gross about it is the smell, they keep these kind of...sanitary?" Donghyuck tries, pulling down the sleeve of his hoodie to cover his hand as he opens the drain.

"Y'know, I'm starting to regret not just running away instead of having a stranger rescue me into some...sewers." the bratty undertone doesn't go unnoticed and Donghyuck just laughs as he ascends down the ladder, hearing his laughter eacho through the tunnel.

"I won't be a stranger for long if you come down and talk with me- I will explain everything as best as I can."

When he doesn't hear the man getting onto the ladder he continues,

"Or you know, I could leave you alone, outside, where you face will be plastered all over the Polygon,the whole country, and then you will have no other chance to escape from the Sanctum." he says, and he knows he's got him as he feels the ladder tremble as it holds both of their weights.

"Alright, no need for the taunting, I thought I was going to fucking die today- give me a break." 

"No can do." he wipes his hands on his jeans once he feels solid ground.

"Besides," he turns on his torch, "you're kind of a very important source of information to me right now." 

"If it's anything to do with-" 

"I need to know where Baekhyun and Renjun are." he says stern, flashing the light higher so he can see the mans face.

"And what makes you think I would tell you- I have no idea who the fuck you are." 

"Well, my name is Donghyuck, I'm 19, and Baekhyun and Renjun are my friends, and I know that they were a part of Anarx for some time- at least up until you're guys' attack." 

The mans eyebrows furrow.

"And how exactly did you know about them being members of Anarx?" 

"Honestly, I don't think you'd want to know now- and it's best not coming from me but from them. And they could explain to you how I know but there's only one issue, I don't know where the fuck they are." he starts to walk down the tunnel.

"All I'm willing to say for now, is that I have no intention of hurting you- if I did I wouldn't have rescued you or had you follow me to the south underground." Donghyuck turns around and smiles coyly as the man's mouth opens.

"This is- what?" 

"South underground system." the man schools his expression to one of intrigue.

"I mean- I expected  something but you're also from the underground? I've never been in the presence of another underground member that's not from Anarx." the man walks up to Donghyuck, both of them slowly falling into step as they walk throught the long tunnel.

"You never know, I  could be an Anarx member." the man bursts out laughing.

"Oh trust me, I would know, comes with being the leader." now it's Donghyuck's turn to stall, the cogs in his head turning.

"You're Ten?!" 

"The one and only- Baek and Renjun must've told you a lot about yours truly. If they didn't I'd be very disappointed." 

"No, no- they did but they just- _fuck_ , they didn't tell me how you looked like though," he feels himself laugh out of incredulousness, "well- I guess it's pleasure to meet the mastermind." 

"Aw, I didn't know I had fans in the underground- usually it's the other way around." Donghyuck starts to walk again.

"Well...granted some things I disagree with you on, but we both hate the government, that's all that matters." he says before jumping across the intersection with the ease of years of practice. Him and Yuta used to always roam the underground without the others knowing, Yuta still has the Anarx fire in him and Donghyuck accompanied him on his walks to get his frustrations out.

"You know I'm part of the Anarx, it's only fair you tell me what movement you're a part of- how the fuck did you make that jump?" Ten looks at the distance, the idea of jumping and possibly soaking himself in the stench of the water not being something he'd be fond of.

"You might wanna do a little sprint." 

Ten backs up a few steps before running and jumpin, Donghyuck moving to the side to get out of his way as he falls on his knees.

"I can tell you once you tell me where-" Donghyuck immediately ducks down as he sees a flashlight, pulling Ten down with him.

"Donghyuck?!" he hears Taeyong's familiar yell and straightens himself back up.

"Fucking shit Taeyong, you fucking scared me." he walks over to where the flashlight is at the end of the tunnel.

"You were taking your sweet time so we walked down a bit to see if you got lost on the way." and Donghyuck doesn't hold back the scoff.

"Well, I'll have you know I brought someone that can at least help us." he raises his flashlight from the ground and shines it up, so his and Ten's faces are illuminated.

"You brought the fucking leader? Donghyuck-" Doyoung begins from beside Taeyong.

"Look, I thought he was Baekhyun- but at least he can tell us where they might be 'cause I didn't see them at the execution site." 

"There's no need." Yuta says from behind Taeyong and Doyoung, Donghyuck. Still too far away to be able to see what he's doing, but he's on the floor beside something.

"What?" he quickens his footsteps.

Taeyong and Doyoung move to let him past, Yuta is kneeling next to a boy, putting pressure on the back of his head, from a wound that's dripping a steady stream down the boy's neck and Yuta's elbows. Donghyuck looks at the rags beside them, soaked in blood.

"Jeno?" he hears from behind him, Ten shoving past him to get to the boy.

"Jeno, what happened? Are you okay?" he's obviously not okay, but it's not Donghyuck's place to make snarky comments right now.

"We thought he was Renjun, we saw a guard beating him up and trying to execute him during the chaos- we just- yeah." Taeyong says walking over to Donghyuck.

"He told us that Baek and Renjun were supposed to be on the same route as him- East side, on the way to the Terra Tower, but he never saw them. He didn't report their absence though which, strange, but he wouldn't say why." Taeyong turns to walk towards the boy, Jeno. 

"He doesn't look in very good shape. We wanted to find you and Taemin as soon as possible so we can discuss about taking him back to base." Doyoung says in a low voice- even though Ten could probably still hear every word in the silence and echo of the tunnel.

"Are you fucking serious? To base? You want to take an  Anarx to our base?" Donghyucks whisper-shouts. If Ten heard him then he acted as if he didn't.

"Donghyuck, we can't just leave him here."

"Do you guys have a death wish? Once the Sanctum get a whiff of them they'll be on their ass- and when they find us with them? We're all gonna end up on that fucking execution site." 

"And what were you planning on doing with Ten then, hmm? Just question him and then letting him walk free? Are you fucking dumb?" Doyoung retorts.

"Guys, pack it in." Taeyong walks from where he was with Jeno, Ten and Yuta. Donghyuck not realising how loud their voices have gone.

"Donghyuck," he puts his hand on his shoulder, "have some empathy, we are not about to just leave people, with one that could die if we don't step in and the other, who has their face plastered all over the country by now." Taeyong says sternly, Donghyucks shurgs off his hand.

"I do have empathy thank you very much- don't want my members being caught up in the middle of the mess their movement have created." Donghyucks points towards Ten and Jeno.

"Since when were you so- you do realise that the more you try to segregate the movements from ours then you're gonna make more enemies. Donghyuck, this isn't how we do things- ever." Taeyong says.

Ten and Yuta were whispering throughout the whole ordeal, until Ten moves to press his hand on-top of Yuta's as he notices his arm starting to cramp.

"I got it, you speak to them." Ten smiles at Yuta, who's eyes widen temporarily. He stands up and tries to wipe the blood on his hands on his jeans.

"When I was a part of the Anarx..." Yuta begins, walking over to the trio as he speaks.

"I joined a year after Ten, but we were put in the same group because of our ages. You all know how loyal I am to you all, to Vox- more so than I ever was to the Anarx- but I'm not going to leave an old friend behind, knowing I could've done something to help." Yuta finishes, eyes trained specifically on Donghyuck.

"Hyuck, you remember how rocky things were between us when I first joined?" Yuta steps closer, eyes becoming more soft when Donghyuck breaks eye-contact.

A loud laugh breaks the conversation, everyone's heads whipping towards where the sound came from. 

Donghyuck looks towards Taeyong and then towards Ten and Jeno, Ten who's eyebrows are furrowed and he's sheilding the boy with his own body.

Yuta looks at Donghyuck, nodding, both of them proceeding towards where the sound came from with caution. Donghyuck looks behind, Taeyong a few metres behind him, whilst Doyoung hangs back with Ten and Jeno.

The laugh, continues, followed by a clapping sound. 

Taeyeong straightens himself out, all edge draining from his muscles as they relax. He inhales and shouts.

"Taemin?!" Donghyuck and Yuta jump, ready to curse at Taeyong for that, but as they hear the laugh erupt again, they start running down the tunnel, flashlights turned on.

Taemin is hunched over himself, grabbing at his stomach as he claps his hands. Laughing heartily.

"Taemin, holy shit, we've been waiting for you. What-" Donghyuck reaches him first, stopping as he points his flashlight, noticing a man trying to not throw up as he is submerged in the sewage water.

"Oh my fucking god, I'm crying- Mark, oh my god, are you okay?" Taemin wheezes, covering his nose as he reaches his hand out- that's covered with the long sleeves of his top- towards the man.

Donghyuck's eyes narrow, looking at the man's familiar face as he emerges from the sewage water, he covers his nose as the stench coming from the man radiates off of him.

If Donghyuck had a bad gag reflex then he probably would've thrown up due to the filthy smell.

"Taemin," Taeyong's nasally voice- he pinches his nose to prevent himself from also inhaling, Yuta just straight up turned around and walked back to Ten and Jeno.

"Taemin, who the fuck is this?" Taeyong says not shying from how suspicious he is, as Taemin wipes at his tears.

"Oh this, this is Mark- he's the one that I told you about- he was my supervisor when I was at the Emotion Charity." 

_ Mark . _

He was the one that Donghyuck met. Before the memory has the chance to fully float back to him-

"And what exactly do you think you're doing bringing an  _actual Emotion Charity Worker_ , here?" Taeyong says slowly, trying to wrap his head around what the fuck is happening.

"I like him. He deserves better. So I brought him here, so he can join us." Taemin says, smiling whilst all of them are gobsmacked- Doyoung and Ten also as they hear the commotion and peak around to look.

**"You have to be fucking kidding me."**


End file.
